


Take the Bitter with the Sweet

by The_White_Rabbit42



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Linear Narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:53:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28256481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_White_Rabbit42/pseuds/The_White_Rabbit42
Summary: Life is a collection of moments.  Some good.  Some bad.  When Gabriel's and Lynna's worlds collide, can they sift through the pieces enough to realize that sometimes the worst moments can lead to the best?*Warnings will be tagged at the beginning of every chapter.  Rated E for later parts.*
Relationships: Gabriel (Supernatural)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Take the Bitter with the Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Hurt/comfort, angst, mental confusion, allusions to canon-typical trauma, swearing

She never knew where Gabriel went at night. Evelyn never even thought about what he or Cas did while the rest of them slept… until she stopped being able to. 

She wasn’t looking for  _ him _ specifically, just somebody.  _ Any  _ body. To remind her that she wasn’t alone. Maybe distract her from the shadows until the sun came back up. If she was lucky enough to find such peace, anyway. 

She drifted through the windowless halls on autopilot, the gears in her mind still stuck between fight and flight. She could feel the darkness still bleeding into this world, its jagged claws embedding within her skin, making her the enemy as much as it was. 

She was practically at the doorway to the den before she realized, drawn to the room You were practically in the doorway to the den before you realized you were even there, drawn there by the a series of muffled sounds.

She peered out of the shadows, the room bathed in a soft, monochrome glow from the television screen. Her eyes swept a bleary trail, though a little of the haze cleared when she saw the archangel lounging on the couch. 

He didn’t seem anymore infinite now than he did the first time she laid eyes on him.

One arm was draped across the back of the sofa, the other bent to form a right angle to his body from the armrest. He propped his face up with a closed fist, his profile striking against the backdrop of some old, black and white show. 

He looked caught between worlds, neither completely bored nor tuned in to whatever he was watching. His eyes were as glassy as the screen in front of him, as if on the verge of almost checking out.

_ Almost _ . 

“You know, I keep being told it’s rude to take a peek into people’s thoughts, and yet, lurking seems to be the standard etiquette around here.” Dryness touched his words, but there was no mistaking the press of his lips. 

He didn’t bother to glance her way, and that was really what had the fuzziness fading from around the edge of the world.

She froze, uncertainty preventing her from entering the room or retreating to her own. She didn’t want to be an annoyance, especially not to him.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. 

Gold sharpened to a dull glow, and everything from the breath in her lungs to the motes of dust in the air stilled for one surreal moment. Just as quickly, the tension snapped, sending everything rushing back into motion as he turned toward her. 

“Hey,” he greeted, trying to smile. “Didn’t realize it was you.” 

As usual the gesture fell short of its mark.

She imagined it wouldn’t if he was still capable of the brightness he wanted to channel. She’d heard the words that whispered along the walls whenever he left the bunker, and she didn’t hold his attempts against him. The effort was appreciated, his desire to be authentic comforting and sad all at once. 

It helped put a little more distance between her and her demons, though, and she found herself leaning slightly past the threshold despite her earlier apprehension.

“Can’t sleep?” He guessed, eyes a little more appraising as they studied her.

What did he see, she wondered? What did  _ anyone  _ see when they looked at her, human or otherwise? Could they tell what lurked within the darks of her eyes? Could they somehow find that fraying thread and unravel the awfulness seething beneath the surface? 

Did they, too, see the coward that she did?

“Plenty of room if you’d like to come in.”

He inclined his head toward the other end of the couch before turning his attention back to the screen, as if knowing what it did to her.

He probably  _ did _ . Archangel.  _ Duh _ . 

Her hesitance returned. Maybe she should go. Apologize again for lurking. Go back to --

_ \-- To what?  _ A voice challenged. 

She sighed. 

She wish you could peel it off herself. The fresh salty tracks dried along her face. The lingering moisture that refused to clear from her eyes. To shed the fear that clung so insistently to her she began to doubt it would ever let go.

But she couldn’t. And for better or worse, he was one of the few comforts left to her.

_ “It’s ok, it’s ok,” he slowly bends at the knees, just enough to drop his weapon on the ground. “I’m here to help.” _

_ He straightens himself, hands up to show he means no harm. His eyes are wide, but they are far from calm. She sees the desire. To be harmless. Trustworthy.  _

_ But she can’t trust him - can’t trust anybody in this God forsaken place.  _

_ “You’re not.” Her head shakes. Once. Twice. Again and again, the clamor in her pulse seeping out in the motion, until she buries her head in the only thing that mattress, the only thing that can help.  _

_ She clings tight, to desperation, to hope that frantically fizzles when the only thing that presses back is cold, stiff -- gone.  _

_ It’s not real. It isn’t. It  _ **_can’t_ ** _ be... _

She blinked her way out of the memory, but things weren’t the same as she left them. She no longer stood in the doorway, her legs curled beneath her as she sat on the far end of the couch. She  _ might  _ have moved herself there, but blanket draped around her shoulder suggested  _ probably not.  _

“Thanks,” she murmured, adjusting her limbs to ease some of the stiffness that had settled into them. 

He nodded, barely. So much so, she questioned herself on it. Just like so many other things. 

A restless cadence began in fingertips across faded fabric; the first real response she’d seen from him. She’d never acknowledged his meddling before. She had a feeling he preferred it that way. But, as with all good things in her life, she’d find a way to ruin it. Only there was supposed to be someone there to pull her out if she dug too deep.

_ “I’m sorry, kid.” _

_ Strong arms slip beneath hers, gently breaking her hold. _

_ “We gotta go, ok? You have to let her go.”  _

“I’m not a kid.” It was a quiet insistence as much as it was a simple truth. She’d stopped being a kid a long time ago. 

The images on the screen shift abruptly, the previous scene replaced instantaneously by a new one with the same characters. She had no idea what happened, or, more importantly, when she’d scooted against Gabriel’s invitingly open side.

His arm dropped down from the back of the couch, gingerly slinking around her. 

Perhaps it wasn’t _ her  _ who had done anything.

Perhaps  _ none of this _ was actually  _ real _ .

_ Perhaps you never left her after all... _

He released a long, measured breath through his nose. 

She couldn’t see his face. She shouldn’t know him well enough to read his body, and yet there was a buzzing along her senses, like thousands of tiny wasps starting to swell beneath the surface.

“You remember.” His words, like hers, are an acknowledgement of fact. No more. No less.

She shook her head. She didn’t remember. Not really. Not enough. Not if she could help it.

“I don’t want to.” The truth slipped out, spilling fresh liquid across her lashline as she closed her against him. Against  _ all of it _ . 

Because it was the only thing she could be certain of. 

Suddenly it hurt. To think. To move. To breathe. To  _ know _ . 

This time when Gabriel exhaled, his entire body deflated. 

“Fair enough.” His touch glided along the edge of her face, fingers drawing back her hair and tucking it behind her ear. They settled on her temple, pressing lightly, as if he could simply knead away the ache entrenched in so much of her being.

Something sparked along the air, thrumming along her skin. She felt drawn to him, her body molding against. She couldn’t believe what she was doing, couldn’t do a thing to move herself away, as if he had suddenly become the center of her gravity. 

Her eyelids drooped; the final curtain lowering to end the scene. Only she wasn’t ready to go. Not yet.

She knew it was there. It always was and always would be, preserved, or possibly just as lost as she was. But this time when she reached for it, she didn’t come up empty handed. The ember reignited, burning small but bright against whatever tried to pull her under.

She opened her mouth, but her message slurred muzzy, even inside her own mind.

“I know, I know. I just… _ fuck _ . I’m so fucking sorry.” Despite the frustration in his tone, he cradled her head as it went limp, settling her gently against his shoulder. 

He closed his eyes, features strained as he stroked the hair of a woman he had no right to do this to. 

  
“Please forgive me, Lynna,  _ I tried. _ ”


End file.
